


Open the damn door, Sam!

by Applewriter



Category: Avengers (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Multiple Pairings, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Pre-The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV), Second Chances, WinterFalcon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:48:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29355234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Applewriter/pseuds/Applewriter
Summary: Sam has a decision to make: Go on or stop it all. Thankfully his old friend helps him along the way.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Sam Wilson, Riley/Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning: Mention of death

Sam held his cellphone, blinking back emotions as he swiped through pic after pic of the team that once was: Sam and Natasha pulling ridiculous duck-faces at the screen, Steve holding a fidget spinner up to the camera, a huge grin on his dopey face... Sam neared the end of his album. Riley smirking at his own reflection in a window, fixing his hair before the next plane took off and wrecked it all.Sam switched off the phone and placed it in one of his packing boxes.A second later he retrieved it, pressed it to his chest and squeezed his eyes shut.

The last of his possessions were ready to go.All he had to do was await the delivery truck, and drive off into the sunset like all heroes did when their feature came to an end.A loud noise made him spin round in surprise, his hand already reaching for his sidearm.

“You gonna use that on me, flyboy?”

Sam’s mouth hung open as the image of Riley floated toward him.The voice, the face, the everything was perfect.It was Riley.Sam closed his mouth with a snap.

“You’re not real. You’re dead. You fell.”Sam’s words tumbled out, a sharp stab of grief hitting himas he took in Riley’s form.

Riley snuck a look into one of the open boxes, apparently unmoved by Sam’s confusion.

“Look, buddy. No need to make a federal case about me being deceased an’ all.”He grinned up at Sam.“Pop tarts? Your mama would be ashamed at you eating that shit.”

Sam inched forward, reaching out a finger to prod the apparition, but at the last moment he withdrew and inched right on back.“What’s happening? How is this possible?How is any of this possible?”

Riley let out a loud sigh. “Bro, you met a talking raccoon, a robotic girl and a fine piece of ass that can fly in space.”He placed both hands on his hips.“This ain’t nothing special.”He looked at Sam a moment before continuing; his posture now straight and formal. “I don’t have much time.”

Sam held up his hand.“Wait. Don’t tell me you’re pulling some _Ebenezer Scrooge_ shit on me?”

Riley made a dismissive gesture.“Old British dead guy stories were never my thing.”

Sam nodded to himself.“You loved detective stories,” he whispered, suddenly remembering the stack of pulp novels bulging out of Riley’s bags. 

When Sam blinked, Riley was right in front of him. “I may not have much time, but you have a lot of it.”Riley gave him a knowing look.“Whatever you’re planning, I want you to have the full picture first.”Sam took a step away, looking at the door, but Riley turned his face back to him.“I knew all along.Don’t be sad, bro.I knew how you felt about me.”

Sam’s face felt hot; his eyes stung, but he looked right back at Riley.“I’m sorry.I’m sorry I never said anything to you.I didn’t want to get you in trouble, didn’t want the both of us in a mess...”

“Liar.”

“Excuse me?”

Riley placed both hands on Sam’s shoulders; cold hands making Sam flinch.“I said you are a damn liar, Wilson.You didn’t care about any of that shit.You were afraid I’d say yes - to you, to life, to a new future.”

Sam bit the inside of his cheeks for a moment.“Riley, why are you doing this?”

“Like I said, I want you to have the full picture.You’re a brave, fool-headed man, except when it comes to love.”Riley held up his hand when Sam started to interrupt.“Yeah everyone knows you flirt like other folks breathe.You could have a fresh piece of action in bed every week if you wanted.But you don’t because you’re a good man too.You don’t want to disrespect anyone, so you keep them all at arm’s length.Well I’m here to tell you in the few moments I have left, to stop that shit and grab love and life whenever you can.”

“Don’t tell me what to do... wait, few moments?Where the hell are you going?”

Riley smirked at him even as his form started to waver.“Well I’m not going down there!See you around, Flyboy.”And with that, he was gone.


	2. I’m not your girlfriend...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning for non-consensual slapping.

Sam searched the house for what felt like hours. At one stage he upturned all the larger packing crates, desperate for some clue as to what had just happened. He only straightened up when knocking at the door startled him.

“Mister Wilson?” A voice from outside called. “We need to pick up the last of your stuff before the storm hits. Heard it’s going to be a doozy!”

Sam glanced at the mess around him. “Hang on, fellas. I’ll be right there!” He ran down the stairs, almost tripped on his phone that had somehow ended up on the floor, and then he yanked the door open.

Steve Rogers shouldered past him, carrying a pile of brown paper bags.

“Steve?” Sam turned to look at the man, but then turned back to see the world outside - it was daytime, hot and humid. A gravel pathway traced from his door out to a wooded area a little way off. Birds squawked high above. Everything had changed.

“You gonna help me with all this?” Steve called out from the kitchen. “Ice cream’s half melted already.” Steve balanced two tubs of Strawberry ice cream against his chest, opening the freezer door with an elbow. Once he deposited them inside he was struck with an armful of Wilson as Sam threw himself into a hug.

“Steve,” Sam sighed, squeezing the other man as tight as he could. 

“What’s up with you?” Steve responded with a laugh. When no further words came from Sam, he held the other man back a little. “Sam are you okay? Are you sick, sweetheart?”

Sam wiped at his face. “Yeah man, I think I’m sick but I don’t care.”

Steve placed his hand against Sam’s forehead. “You feel warm I guess, but it’s mighty hot today.” He guided Sam to the kitchen table, seating him on a chair that wobbled a little. “I’ll find the aspirin.”

“No, please don’t,” Sam said quietly. “Just sit with me, huh? Just sit,” he repeated, pulling Steve down to the chair beside him. “Can we just be here right now.” 

Sam kept his eyes on Steve; beloved friend, come back from the dead. A miracle made real. It was more than he could have wished for. The quiet of the day, stillness in the air, and the closeness were all a moment of time silently forming around him. Sam wanted to clasp this moment, use his straight-edge razor to slice himself open and hide it deep inside.

The bubble of time dispersed as Steve nodded and smiled. He reached over and clasped Sam’s hands in his own. The faint sound of jazz drifted through the room; a tune Sam didn’t know but instantly liked.

“If I close my eyes, are you going to disappear, Rogers?”

“No, doll. I’ll be right here with you. You look beat anyway.” Steve rose, gently pulling Sam up and to the staircase. “You’ll be more comfy in bed. Let’s go.”

Sam allowed Steve to lead the way to a small bedroom. Sam felt his eyes drooping shut with every step. When he fell onto the bed however, he noticed how different his room looked. Gone were the framed family photos, the tiny yet powerful sound system, and the colourful carpet. Now everything was neutrals, dark wood, brass and ceramic. An honest-to-god lace curtain lay beneath a floral monstrosity. A metal alarm clock tick-tocked on a bedside table.

Sam was suddenly very much awake.  
“This really is a dream, isn’t it?” He sat up a little. “This is a damn dream.” Sam couldn’t help the bitterness in his voice. Why would Riley make him go through this? Whatever was happening, it was cruel, plain and simple.

Steve stripped off his shirt, leaving his undershirt on. He kicked off his shoes and climbed on the bed, kneeling over Sam. “Nah, the dream bit usually comes later. But if you like I’ve got a little something for anything that ails ya.” He grinned down at Sam. “Or a big something. That’s what you keep on calling it.”

Sam lay frozen under the bigger man. “You’re sitting on me.”

“Yes.”

“Why are you sitting on me?” Sam yelped. “Why are you rubbing up on me?” He tried to inch away, but the blanket beneath him only seemed to hold him in place.

“Well,” Steve said with a sigh, “If I can’t do this with my boyfriend, then something is really wrong.” Steve dipped his head down to kiss Sam, biting a little at his lip.

“Boyfriend?”

“Nice one, Wilson. I’m not your girlfriend, and I’m not about to dress up in stockings and heels again. That was a one-time thing.”

“If this is a dream, if Riley did this, then I should...”

“Who’s Riley?” Steve interrupted as he slipped a hand under Sam’s shirt - a horrible plaid item Sam only just now noticed.

“I told you about... Wait. Stockings and heels?”

Steve waggled his eyebrows. “It’s neither Christmas or your birthday, so I’m not dressing up for you today.” At Sam’s continued stare, Steve stopped moving. “What’s going on with you? Why are you acting all strange?” 

Sam drew Steve down to lie beside him. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just that this is the most realistic dream I’ve ever had. It’s kinda weird. Well really weird.”

Steve lay flat on his back, looking at the slow-moving ceiling fan. “Are you saying you’re done with me?”

“What? No!”

“Cos dreams don’t last. Sooner or later you wake up and it’s all gone.”

“That’s not what I mean. Damn, I’m gonna kill Riley next time I see him,” Sam muttered to himself.

“So this isn’t about last week then? With the fools at the mechanic’s in town? Cos you know I don’t listen to all that, Sam. White folk and Coloured folk can live in peace together no matter what.”

Sam spluttered: “Coloured?”

“What we do together ain’t none of their business. Far as they know, it’s all gossip anyways. Nobody’s gonna try anything with the Deputy’s boy.”

Sam sat up, facing Steve. “Dear God, what kind of Southern-fried bullshit dream is this?”

“You can stop calling it a dream whenever you want,” Steve said, the words ground out as he continued to stare at the ceiling.

Sam’s face softened. His hands itched to touch, to hold on to the other man with all his might. If this was a dream, then it wouldn’t be wrong, would it? But Sam had spent too many sessions at the VA urging ex-service personnel to be honest with themselves and others with their feelings.

“I saw you as an old man, Steve. Saw you on death’s door, and you shouldn’t be here. Hell, I shouldn’t be here either.”

Steve gawped at Sam. “You saw me dead?” He lifted himself up on his elbows. “Sam, what’s happening to you?”

“This is all a fantasy, Steve.” Sam’s eyes held all the emotions he could bear to show. He felt his heart fracturing as sure as anything as it rattled around his chest.

Before Sam could say anything else, Steve flipped over on top of him. He held Sam by the shoulders, glaring at him. “Does this feel like a dream to you?” Steve pressed harder until ribbons of pain shot up and down Sam’s arms.

Steve bent to kiss Sam in an onslaught of lips and teeth. “How about now? This feel like a fantasy to you?” Steve’s hard stare wasn’t made any less deadly because he was grinning down at Sam too. “You want it rough today, darling? Cos I got all sorts of tricks I wanna try with you.” Steve drew back his hand, and Sam had just enough notice to inch out of the way. Steve pulled him back, holding him still by the scruff of his collar.

“Steve, stop!” Sam winced as the first slap fell.

At Sam’s words, Steve looked down at his hands. He jerked away from the man beneath him, backing off the bed, almost tripping over his feet.

“Wait. Steve will you just wait a damn second?”

Sam scrambled off the bed as he reached out to the other man by the door.

“This isn’t you, Steve.” Sam looked down at himself. “And this isn’t me either.” He gently pressed himself against Steve’s back, arms surrounding his waist. “And you know what? I don’t care any more. Whatever this is, I just want to be with you. We don’t have to do anything.”

“I’m sorry for beating on you, Sam,” Steve whispered. “I know I shoulda checked you were in the mood first.”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Sam said in what he hoped was a reassuring voice. “I know you’d never really hurt me, but yeah, checking first is always a good idea.”

Steve turned slowly in Sam’s arms so they were facing each other. “Then be with me Sam. I’ve been so alone, and then I met you and everything felt right. I couldn’t go back to how things were before you appeared.” When Steve blinked back tears, he bent down slightly so his lips hovered over Sam’s. “If this is a dream, then kiss me before you wake up.”

The kiss was the complete opposite of what had passed before. Even though Sam’s lips were bruised and tender, it was still the softest thing he had ever felt. 

“I love you, punk.” Steve’s words were a caress against Sam’s ears - a flutter of gentle breath that made him close his eyes and smile.

When Sam opened his eyes, it was to an empty room.


	3. I’m not doing this again.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our poor guy can’t catch a break...

Sam went downstairs in a sort of haze. Everything was back to how it had been, but in the same moment it was still different. The packing boxes were still present, their contents the same as they had been, but with one exception - the package of blueberry pop tarts were now out on the window ledge. Sam walked carefully toward it, reached forward and then nearly fell backward when Clint Barton popped up outside, swiftly followed by a curious looking dog. The two men looked at each other in surprise before Clint laughed.

“Sam, I’m the deaf one,” he signed. “I’ve been knocking for ages, sent you a text. I was going to just break in and make me and Lucky here comfortable.”

Sam rushed to the front door. He opened it, noting that he was back in his regular location and in his regular clothes. “What are you doing here?” He dodged out of the way as Lucky bounded past him. “What the hell is that mutt doing in my home?”

Clint turned Sam around, “I need to see your mouth, remember?” Clint’s hands were a blur as he signed, but Sam could understand it. 

Wait a minute. 

“I know what you’re signing!”

“I should think so too. Took you long enough to get the basics right.” Clint moved around the room, and then took a seat on the bottom step of the staircase. He spread his legs wide, sweeping a hand over his taut stomach in what was obviously a planned move. The fabric of Clint’s too-tight shirt rose up as he stretched, revealing deliciously tanned skin.

Sam swiped a hand over his face. “I swear I’m going to dig up Riley’s body and kill him all over again,” he muttered to himself.

“What’s that?”

Sam sighed. “Look, Clint. I’m not doing this again. And I’m certainly not doing this with you. I don’t know what’s going on, but I ain’t got time for this shit.” He went to the front door, holding it wide open.

“You kicking me out, babe?”

Sam froze. “Babe?”

Clint strode toward him. “Got another endearment you’d prefer?” 

Sam closed the door quickly. “You’re shitting me!”

Clint looked taken aback for a moment, but then he took a breath, exhaled and smiled a seductive smile. Sam felt something stir within. Was this desire? Had he truly lost his mind? Because Hawkeye wasn’t somebody he’d really thought about before, and now the man in question was doing a slow-motion striptease right in front of him.

“I’m not lying.” Clint’s fingers moved slowly as he signed. “You seemed to like it when I called you Big Poppa, but you hated being called Chocolate Lover Man.” Clint slipped off his t-shirt, showing scarred skin on a toned body, that was suddenly the most beautiful thing Sam had seen in years. Sam squeezed his eyes shut. As gorgeous as the sight of a half-naked Hawkeye was, he couldn’t do this. The fantasy had to stop. Right now. Sam took a step back, increasing the distance between himself and the walking strip-show.

“Riley!”

Clint stopped in his tracks. “Who’s this Riley?”

“Riley! Get your ass in here right now!”

Before Sam could get another word out, Clint was in front of him, hands raised in a non-threatening way.

“I’m gonna call Nat, okay? I mean I’ve seen some stuff - we both have, but I’m worried about you, babe. Gotta make sure nobody else is in that noggin of yours.” Clint stopped signing and moved his hand slowly to his jeans pocket, pulling out his phone. But instead of typing onto it, he flung it with precise aim and force at Sam’s head. Sam fell to the floor unconscious in less than a second.


	4. Life is full of surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is understandably in a bad mood...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter of my first Avengers fic!
> 
> Trigger Warning for thoughts about suicide.

Everything was swirling grey.The fog was a physical touch on Sam’s skin, making him squirm this way and that.For a brief moment he wondered if he was finally, thankfully dead - taken down by a fellow Avenger in some messed-up version of _It’s a Wonderful Life._ Sam’s head still hurt, but for some reason he couldn’t move his hands to rub at his temples.Stay calm, Sam thought to himself.If he was dead, he would deal with it, same as he dealt with everything. 

Loving Steve, he could see that.Sure he’d never dared to do more than fantasise on occasion, but that was natural.Steve was amazing, with a killer body, a great smile and a heart of pure gold. But Clint Barton? Seriously?That thought quickly evaporated when he sensed a presence nearby: someone was with him in the dark space. Riley’s laughter came closer to where Sam floated in the strange grey mist.

“He knocked you out, man!Your fella went kabam! And you just went down like a sack!” The spectre of Riley wiped at his eyes, now suddenly clear in the fog.“I mean, I wasn’t expecting that at all.You’re hanging around with a weird-ass bunch, Wilson!”

“You dead son of a bitch.”

“I know I am, but what are you?” Riley asked in a singsong voice.

“I’m about to kick you right back into the land of the living.”

Riley started laughing again. 

“First you send me Steve, and then that walking disaster and his one-eyed dog.”Sam tried to move his unwilling arms.“I mean, Clint?I never once looked at the guy!You send me a Clint who I’m supposed to be with?That’s low, man.That’s uncalled for.”

Riley was suddenly a fraction away from Sam’s face.“Oh shut the hell up. At first I thought hey, cool. Maybe Hawkeye is a good choice after all, cos you’ve definitely looked at him more than once. Don’t deny it, you perv. But no problem. Maybe he can convince you how much you want to stay alive and enjoy the time you have.”Riley tapped on Sam’s head.“But you’re a dense old coconut aren’t you?”

Sam sighed, feeling sensation start to return to his arms and hands. “Why are you doing this?”His voice sounded so very tired.

“Why do you think?”

Sam glared at his old friend.

“Fine, fine. Here’s the deal, Wilson. You want to die. You want to stop being in pain.I’m supposed to help you change your mind for the better.”

Sam looked away from the spectre, but Riley just floated around to face him once more.

Sam grit his teeth for a moment, and then spoke. “I don’t want to die. There I said it. Happy now?”

“And you couldn’t tell me this right at the start?” Riley looked very sceptical.

“How was I supposed to know yourparade of boyfriends would happen?” Sam said, noticing how the mist swirled around his breath.“I’m a qualified therapist, Riley.I used to help folk at the V.A all the time before I joined the Avengers.I know someone who’s suicidal is gonna take a long while before they feel like they can go on with their lives. It doesn’t happen overnight.”

“So why was it so hard for you?”Riley’s voice was soft now; his face serious but knowing.

“I didn’t want to love again.I didn’t want to feel again.I lost almost everything, and man, it was just too much.”Sam’s words broke on the last breath.

“You lost hope.”Riley lay a hand on Sam’s shoulder. The hand was freezing.

“Yeah, you’re right about that,” Sam replied, sounding defeated.

“I know it’s scary,” Riley spoke.“But you’ve gotta try, pal.Open yourself up to life.And if you ever get it into your fool head that any of us would feel betrayed that you loved someone else, then do us a favour and don’t.”

Sam hung his head, blinking back tears.“Life is so rough sometimes.”He noticed the mist start to evaporate, with the outline of his front room coming back into focus.

Riley enveloped him in a massive hug.“Yeah, you said it. But life is also exciting and fun and surprising too.You’ll never know how truly loved your are, my friend.So open the damn door.”Riley winked at Sam, and then he was gone.

Sam leaned up on an elbow, finally able to rub at the chill that surrounded him.The doorbell chimed.Sam gave the door a wary look, stood up, and then opened it.

“Are you ready or what?” Bucky Barnes asked.“I got better things to do than wait on you, you lazy bum.I don’t care how much you say you love me.”He pulled Sam into his arms, dropping a quick kiss to his lips.

Sam squawked, “Hey!”

“Hey, yourself.” Bucky tried to pull Sam back into the embrace.“Give me a smooch, why don’t ya?”

“I just...”Sam suddenly felt a freezing-cold hand on his shoulders, giving him a gentle shove.He had no doubt this was Riley’s doing once more.

“You just what?” Bucky asked, looking puzzled, before his gaze caught on something by the window.He strode away to pick up the item.When he returned to Sam, he was holding the box of pop tarts.

“Um, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.That’s what we’re having for tomorrow’s breakfast by the way.I can’t cook worth a damn.”

Sam took a breath, looking up at Bucky from beneath his lashes.“Are we really...”

“Wilson will you get a move on?This isn’t like you.”

Sam bit his lip and then blurted, “Are we really together and like in love with each other and how long has this been going on?”

Bucky looked at him for a moment.“Yes, yes and three months now.”

Sam clutched at his chest, shocked into silence.

“So let me ask you a question in return,” Bucky slid closer.“Do you want to stay here in this miserable dump, or do you want to move forward with me and this life. Cos time’s a wasting, Flyboy.”

Sam’s eyes were suddenly wet, his breath stuck in his throat for what felt like ten minutes before he was able to speak.“I want to live.”

“At last!”A new voice startled both of them.

Bucky threw up his hands, “Okay, Riley. We get the point!”

Sam gaped.“You know him?”

Bucky shrugged.“Of course I know him.Stupid ghost kept me up every night for a week to convince me.And I didn’t need much convincing about being with you anyway.”

Sam continued to splutter until a warm, flesh and blood hand cupped his face.

“Riley’s not wrong though. Even if he loves the sound of his own voice, the dead guy helped me see things straight. He helped me see you in a new way.”

“I never saw this coming,” Sam said quietly.

“But I sure did see you looking,” Bucky said with a grin.“Only fair, since I’m the most handsome Avenger out there.”

Sam pushed him away.“Okay I admit I’ve looked once or twice...”

“Five times.I caught you looking five times before we got together.”Bucky held up his metal hand. “Count ‘em.”

Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “Are we gonna bicker like an old married couple, or are you gonna kiss me again?”

Bucky raised his eyebrows.“Let’s do the kissing.”The kiss was gentle, smooth and with so much potential that it made Sam a little light headed.Was this really happening this time?Could he make a go of things with this annoying, gorgeous, hundred-year-old man?

“Stop thinking so much, Wilson.”Bucky stroked along Sam’s arm.“Let’s go to our new home.The future awaits us.”


End file.
